Our Ironic Serendipity (IM5)

Chapter 6

          I wake up to lime colored walls that have always been decorated with a huge painting of an open grass field. The walls aren't exactly lime colored, but Grace and I always called them lime when we were little girls.

        Grace.

        My mind begins to fill with thoughts of her. I try to shake them out, but I can't.

        "Hey! That's not fair." I hear her voice as my mind begins to sink into my memories.

        I saw her before me, 8 years old, and dressed in her favorite pink tutu. I heard myself giggle as she tried to keep her voice down.

        "That's cheating, Rose!" she yelled, her face red.

        "Is not!" I replied, looking down at the deck of cards on the grass.

        "Is too! You looked at my cards!"

        "I didn't! I didn't!" I exclaimed. Then, the back door flung open behind us. We quickly jumped up only to see Greg, Grace's father, stumble through the door.

        "Woah," he hiccuped and looked around the yard until his eyes settled on us. "There she-he is, my big-girl daughter!"

        His body swayed as he tried to keep his balance.

        "Hi, daddy," Grace said, her voice small. Then the door swung open again, revealing an angry Clara; Grace's mother.

        "Stop showing yourself this way to her! Aren't you the least bit ashamed of yourself?" she yelled, pushing Greg against the chest with her hand. "You drunk!"

        I felt my breathing stop as I grabbed a hold of Grace's hand. I could feel my little heart beating as I held on tightly to her, praying that she would never let me go or leave me alone. Grace's palm was sweaty and I could see from the way her chest started moving quickly that her breathing was speeding up. It wasn't a sight she wasn't used to, though.

        "Ho-honey, I'm just here talking to Gracie, isn't that right sssweetheart?" He smiled at Grace with his eyes barely open. Grace's hand clenched me harder. I could feel her pulse racing through her hand.

        "That's it! I'm leaving!" Clara stormed through the back door. It loudly swung shut behind her.

        "Baby! Baby, come on!" Greg tripped back through the door as he followed Clara. I stared at the dirty brown door, waiting for something else to happen. But nothing did. Grace and I just stood there, holding on to each other, without saying a word.

        I didn't see Grace's mom ever again.        

        My mental flashback ends, leaving my mind empty.

        That wasn't a good memory.

        Suddenly I realize that I'm breathing in sharp, short breaths just like Grace. I put my head between my hands, trying to get enough air into my lungs.

        Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

        I try to distract myself by focusing on the wall. Lime. The color is lime. I guess lime has stuck with me throughout my childhood. The colors of the painted sunrise on the walls aren't as bright as they could be since the only lighting in the room is the few electric candles we keep in this room.

        I feel my breathing begin to go back to normal, so I sit back and relax my body.

        After several minutes of sitting in the same spot, I turn my head to see my parents in the other bed, still soundly asleep. As quietly as I can, I climb out of bed and walk towards the door to go to the bathroom.